


We will survive, you, me, our adopted daughter, your strange dog and Roach, of course

by Angryhatefulcoffeeman



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Jaskier will always be a bard, M/M, Strange Meetings, Very Very Slow Burn, a lot of badassery, ciri is a badass too, geralt also has feelings, geralt kills monsters, new adaptaion of how he bacomes a witcher
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23461771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angryhatefulcoffeeman/pseuds/Angryhatefulcoffeeman
Summary: The apocalypse Au nobody asked for. Geralt finds himself all alone in a new world, with his neighbours abandoned and strangely smart dog, surrounded by the Infected, and with a new infection of his own. He finds a new family on his travels, and slowly discovers his purpose in this world. To kill the monsters and protect his own, even if that comes at some cost.This is unnecessarily long, as I am bored in lockdown. Jaskier comes in soon, this is gonna take some brain to get all of my ideas into one story but we will see how it goes!
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. In the Beginning

The roads where quiet. Eerily so. The wildlife had left some years back, having realised the city was lost and would never return to its former glory. The dogs left behind in the panic had long stopped their barking for their owners, having quickly come to the understanding that noise meant the end of them and those around them. Corpses lined the streets, some older than others were decaying, or had parts missing suspiciously in the form of bites through the fleshy parts. Others were fresher, the previous inhabitants only recently gone. 

See, it was realised pretty promptly that this illness was nothing like the world had seen before. It started with an uncontrollable rash across the body, the bacteria slowly eating away at the skin. Then, it made its way inside of the host, slowly infecting the organs until they could no longer cope and were destroyed. At this point, the host should have died. In fact, this was partially true. The mind that was previously there did die, a slow painful death that lead to people simply ending their own lives before it got to that point. But what people didn’t realise, as the morgues and hospitals became inundated with bodies, was that some part of them was alive. The bacteria made its way to the brain. There, instead of destroying the organ, it revived it. The bacteria, some early scientists surmised, used the host body to reproduce, and then by reviving the brain there was the possibility of using the body to infect more people.

  
And so, the apocalypse began.

  
When the bodies of the dead began to come alive, early scientists began their experiments. What was quickly realised was these bodies were no longer human. Rather walking bacteria transmitters. Simply coming into contact with these zombie-like creatures would lead to death, and then a horrifying reincarnation only to continue in the cycle. And so, the human race fell due to their own ignorance, their disbelief in the government instruction and their inability to put an end to the life of a loved one.

  
Only the strong of mind and physique would survive.

  
And so Geralt Rivia, hearing the news early on, fortified his house and hid away from the human race. How long he hid, he couldn’t tell. Days merged together; months passed in the blink of an eye. He eventually emerged from his trance some point in early spring, startled awake by the loud screams from one of the adjacent houses. He grunted, and tried to close his eyes to slip back into the abyss, but try as he must, the screams always pierced his tranquillity, now accompanied by the vicious growling and barking of what he recognised as his next door neighbour’s dog. Rolling his eyes in what could only be described as annoyance, Geralt rose from his position on his beanbag. His joints all but creaked at the movement, protesting by providing him with excruciating pain as he attempted to walk to the door.   
Again, letting out a deep grunt as he staggered towards the door, geralt stopped for a second. The mirror to his left provided a pitiful sight. His once short styled light brown hair was now down past his chest, matted and mangled with its lack of care. His skin felt dry and dirty, taught around his pronounced features from lack of nutrition, the beard he always kept clean shaven was long past his chin, again matted and grizzly. In short, he looked just how he felt. Horrible. 

  
A further barking and screaming match from his neighbour diverted his attention, pushing through his pain he moved towards his door, however upon opening the door, he realised an issue. He was ready to walk out and face an unknown threat, empty handed. From his knowledge, a slight touch from the walking bacteria ridden beings could cause infection, and he was about to walk out and what, punch them?

  
_Smart move._

  
Now becoming frantic in his movements at the now painful screeching from next door, his eyes skipped around the room, searching for a weapon before landing on the perfect instrument. His sword, a real working silver sword that he bought from a convention many years back.

  
_Perfect_

  
Sword held in a shaky hand, muscles that he worked years to gain wasted away in his time hiding, geralt ventured out into a new world. A world which brought him pain to see. The houses down his street were deserted, windows smashed, doors hanging open in a sick show of disaster. The children’s bikes lay unused on driveways, abandoned either by choice to head to a sanctuary uptown, or by force as the corpses moved towards them with only horror in their eyes. What hit geralt the hardest through was the sight across the road. Where once a lovely family lived there, with two dogs, 3 and a half children who led a perfect life, hardworking parents who had a beautiful home, now stood a scene from a horror movie. The house was much like the others, decaying, taken over by nature. Vines climbed high over the once pristine white walls, windows broken open and their expensive cars looked rusted and unusable. But that was not the worst part. On the driveway, lay a corpse. Worst of all, it was a child. And this corpse was headless. The worst was still to come as Geralts eyes scanned the house, eyes drawn to where one of their dogs stood, ripping at something on the floor. Upon closer inspection, and much to his horror, the dogs where eating a body. An adult body. Brows furrowed at the picture this was painting, he then realised there was again no head attached to said body, it was decaying with all the previous signs of infection. Geralt took a step towards the house, gaining a better angle on the scene, before jumping at the noise of a crash from his neighbour’s house. 

  
_Right. Time to put my limited knowledge to use._

  
Slowly and carefully making his way towards the recurrent screaming, Geralt wondered how he had ended up surviving to this point. As he rounded the corner towards the front door, Geralt was met with the horrifying sight of his neighbours’ husband, or what used to be her husband, hanging from the plum tree behind the fence. Stopping and staring in more curiosity than disgust, again Geralt forgot his main purpose, moving slightly towards the creature that he had become. Though his head lolled to the side, neck very clearly broken, the man’s cloudy pink eyes were somewhat alive, darting towards geralt as his limbs moved haphazardly in what was some attempt to get closer to the man. His clothes were tattered and bloody, and the smell which surrounded him was almost to the point of being overwhelming to Geralt, though he stood some 5m back. Upon closer inspection Geralt noted that the creature’s skin was physically peeling back at his joints, it looked mouldy and from Geralts guesses, infected long before the man would have realised. The noise coming from the creature was human, but with a hint of something sinister as it moaned and whined in broken sentences. 

  
“What happened to you…” he murmured to himself, confusion flooding his features as he heard a low grumble from inside the house. With one last glance at the now eerily quiet creature, Geralt shook off the feeling of unease which threatened to consume his focus and crept towards the window. Peeking through the broken and mould ridden window, Geralt was concerned to see the house was in a state of complete disrepair. The couches were ripped apart, cupboards lay broken on the floor, the china pieces his elderly neighbours had regarded as their children smashed to pieces across the floor. 

  
_Who has been screaming then?_

  
Another angry sounding bark came from within the house, this time laced with fear, and this kicked Geralt into motion. For all his hatred of people, seeing animals in trouble was the one thing that could break through his stone-cold exterior. Kicking open the boarded-up door, Geralt was met with the same stench from the older man outside, a scent he would come to associate with the infected. Brandishing his sword, but non the wiser as to what to do with it if he came across trouble, Geralt made his way towards the growling sound, which led him up the damp and dark staircase onto the first floor of the house.

  
His eyes widened at the sight ahead of him, his neighbour, the one who screamed the house down for hours, was clearly no longer home. In the shell of her body sat a monster, face peeling away, eyes wild with hunger and a need to reach the growling dog within the room in front of her. Fortunately, the door was locked and seemed barricaded before the inhabitants became infected, obviously in an attempt to protect their beloved pet. However, the creature had managed to break through the door, and was now lying with both arms through it, scrabbling for the animal hidden, petrified, in the room.

  
Yet the creak of the floorboard under Geralts heavy frame caused the creature to whip its head around in an almost clownlike way, and again Geralt stumbled back, his painfully unused joints giving out on him in his attempts to move quickly. The creature stood wonkily, head lolling like its previous husbands’ outside, before making quick work of the distance between it and where Geralt lay on the floor.

  
_Fuck!_

  
Geralts brain seemed to be moving in slow motion as he attempted to stand, the thing approaching quicker than he’d like. His muscles seemed to forget how to work together, so as the infected being neared him, he was left with no option but to swipe his sword at her decaying and fragile legs. It cut almost clean through the first leg, leaving the creature screeching in pain, but what Geralt didn’t consider was the fact that by doing this, she fell. 

  
Onto him.

  
Geralt shouted in horror as he felt it, the skin on skin contact from the infected, which he knew would ultimately signal his own demise. 

  
Feeling the panic set in, he swung his sword as wildly as he could, feeling a few connections until eventually the movements of the being ceased, and, throwing her off him, he scrambled along the hallway towards the other door. Breathing heavily and making some attempt to brush off the infection that would have already begun to set into his cells, Geralt chanced a look along the hallway. There lay his late neighbour, bleeding thick clots of blood onto the floor, in no way resembling a healthy human’s blood. She had wounds caused by Geralts sword all over her body, but most of all, her head lay separated from her neck to one side of the body. 

  
Thinking back to the other bodies, Geralt quickly realised that the way to end these beings was to remove their heads. Breathing heavily, Geralt stood, electing to ignore the itching in his skin where he had been exposed to the virus. A whimpering from beside him brought him out of his vague limbo, and he knelt down to look through the holes in the door. Underneath the bed he could see what looked like a cloud of white but what he recognised as his neighbours’ young dog. 

  
_I gotta save her._

  
After some time grappling with the barricades nailed across the door, Geralt finally entered the room where the dog was held, and upon the lack of growling upon his entrance, he crouched down at the edge of the bed.

  
“Hi there, buddy. What happened to you? C’mon, good dog.” He praised the dog for a further few minutes, until eventually she emerged, head down and tail wagging gently. She was decidedly beautiful, a white German shepherd type dog, extremely gentle in nature as Geralt found out when she licked his face and settled in his lap for a pat. 

  
“Come on then Girl, lets get you safe” He murmured, standing up. The dog tilted her head as he began walking, deciding in a second to trust the man and follow him. She stopped and took a look at her former owner, if she wasn’t a dog one could say it was even a sad look. But she turned and followed Geralt cautiously out of the house, yet the noise of the man in the garden startled her, she quickly backed up and hid behind the wall. Geralts anger at allowing himself to become infected after all those months of isolation got the better of him; he walked purposely towards the groaning body in the tree.

  
Lifting his sword and snarling, he swung towards it neck, a sickening crunch as the body and head of the creature fell to the ground separate of each other. “That’s for scaring the dog, fucker.” He whistled to his new companion, and she trotted quickly to his side, looking up at him with surprisingly what he noticed to be lightly purple coloured eyes. He crouched down and released the collar from her malnourished neck, but not before taking a look at her name tag.

  
“Come on then, let’s get home…” he frowned at the unusual name written there, and took the note attached behind it.

  
“Yen.”


	2. New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Background info before the story starts properly!!!

Another day, another rude awakening. Yet this time it wasn’t through the piercing screams of the infected trying to kill an innocent dog, no, it was through said dog bouncing off Geralts walls. Literally. He opened his eyes to the happy face of Yen, eyes boring into his own as if to say, ‘come on, get up, I’m ready to go!’. Much to Geralts surprise, his skin had yet to fall off. In fact, where his skin was previously grey and wrinkled from malnutrition, it looked healthy, rejuvenated and full of life.

  
When he stretched his muscles out, they no longer ached or creaked, instead they rippled with a new power and life that had been missing for a while. Geralt rose from his bed, and instead of being ready for breakfast and a nice relaxed morning, his body felt tensed and ready to spring into action. Ignoring the feeling in his bones and the fact that his heart felt like it was simultaneously beating at 100 miles an hour as well as flatlining, Geralt wondered to the kitchen to cook his breakfast, opening his fridge to find only food which smelt like it had gone off a lifetime ago. Wrinkling his nose at the overwhelming smell of mould, he quickly slammed the door (absolutely not thinking of the way the fridge shook with how powerful his push was) and moved to his long life cupboard which held some dry muesli, which would have to do. Setting the box down on the side provided him with further cause for concern when the bottom of it crumpled as though he slammed it with all his might. More and more as he moved around the room, collecting a bowl, chipping the bottom, nearly breaking the drawer as he retrieved a spoon, and the way the box crumpled from his gentle grip all made the feeling of unease gathering in his stomach more and more intense.

  
The tipping point for Geralt was when he moved his spoon to scoop a load of the dry tasteless cereal into his mouth and subsequently shattered the bowl. Muttering to himself angrily about stupid cheap bowls and box and cupboards and everything else under the moon, he moved to collect the broken pieces and muesli from the floor before stopping as he passed the light switch for the room which was…

  
Off

  
The lights where off. 

  
When his eyes slowly moved to the lightbulb, he confirmed that it was indeed off, there was no light emanating from it. But Geralt could see perfectly, in fact it looked as though the world was in HD. Quickly confirming that the windows were in fact still boarded up, and that no light was peeking through, Geralt furrowed his brows in confusion.

  
_Something feels wrong. Really wrong. My body feels… well, it feels perfect. Which can’t be right since I’ve barely eaten. I can see in the dark better than I usually see in the light. Not to mention this damn dog…_ he looked up from the bin and if he wasn’t sure he was going insane before, he definitely was now, because he could swear that from her perch on his couch she was looking at him in amusement. There was laughter in her eyes.

  
_What is going on?!_

  
Brushing off his hand, Geralt headed to his downstairs bathroom to wash his face off, it felt cold and almost rubbery. Rolling his eyes at the tapping of Yen’s claws on the floor as she followed him again, he grabbed his facewash and towel before stopping dead at the sight in front of him. A soft grumble from Yen was the only noise as Geralt stared at the picture his bathroom mirror painted. His facewash clattered to the floor as he moved a step closer to gain a better look at what was supposed to be himself. 

  
His hair was the most striking difference, no longer having any slight semblance of colour, it could best be described as white, flowing long past his shoulders, it was healthier than it had ever been in his life. It all but shined in the light of the bathroom, though Geralt quickly realised that again there was no light, he could just see… _what. The. Fuck._

  
_My eyes_

  
_What?!_

  
Whereas his eyes had previously been a rather boring brown colour, they now glowed a bright amber yellow, the pupils dilated way past the point they should be physically able to, which he assumed was why he could see so damn well in the pitch black. While studying his own eyes, Geralt lifted a hand to his face, realising quite strangely that there was a borderline numb feeling in his skin, which was why his face had that rubbery feel. Eyes moving elsewhere, he noted that his face looked fresh and healthy, cheekbones high and jaw sharper than it had ever been, set in a way which made him look, quite simply, grumpy. Very unamused. Just downright not happy. Moving further afield, Geralts eyes widened as he lifted his arm, marvelling at the sight before him.

  
He worked hard at the gym before the illness, that’s true. But even in his peak form, he had never looked like this. His muscles nearly burst out of the ‘lose’ t shirt he’d worn to bed, and as he moved his arm around he was in shock at the way they flexed around his joints, looking like an imitation of a strongman, but rather than just strong he looked athletic, like the peak of human fitness envisioned. After surveying his body for a while, his ears virtually pricked up at the sound of footsteps. Eyes snapping up, he instinctively sniffed the air, being met with a newly familiar scent.

  
Infected.

  
Suddenly shaking his head, Geralt realised just how weird that was. And then he felt it creeping back, his eyes seemed to have a mind of their own as they quickly scouted out his weapon. Giving up on fighting his new instincts, Geralts body kicked into action. Brushing past Yen, who he noticed fleetingly was wagging her tail in excitement, he grasped his sword, swinging it up in what felt like a completely natural movement in comparison to yesterday’s shaky attempts. 

  
_Let’s go._

  
Without thinking, Geralt left his house, Yen following in a determined trot by his side. He sniffed again in what he realised was his method of ‘scenting the air’ so to speak, and quickly gathered a noseful of the disgusting stench, eyes closing against his will. Suddenly, in an almost out of body experience, Geralt felt himself lurching through the streets, a distorted scene of the road flying past him until he reached the two Infected stumbling towards a field just down the road. Within the field was a gorgeous chestnut mare, slightly malnourished to the point that you could just about see her ribs, but still healthy looking. What was dangerous was the fact that she was tethered to the fence in the form of her halter collar being stuck on some barbed wire, and the infected were drawing closer.

  
At that point, Geralt moved in reverse, before his eyes shot open and he found himself in the same position in the street as he was before. 

  
_What, I can track them now?_

  
Deciding to act upon his newfound abilities, Geralt set off at a determined walk, before his body decided he wasn’t moving nearly fast enough and he broke out into a jog, quickly turning into an almost sprint, which was even more shocking to Geralt since he hadn’t been able to run since school athletics, never mind sprint for a good amount of time down the road. Glancing to his side he noticed Yen was beside him, sprinting as well but somehow not panting nor looking even slightly tired.

  
It seemed almost instantly that he arrived at the field, the Infected couple now beginning to climb the gate of the field, the mare now ripping at her halter in an attempt to escape her doom. Geralt looked around with a slight panic, realising he had no clue what to do in this situation, until he felt a now familiar feeling stirring in his stomach. Making the decision to let his new side take control, Geralt closed his eyes and took a breath. Time slowed down from there, as he opened his eyes the Infected were moving almost comically slow, and the world looked hazy around the hyper focus in all of Geralts senses. 

  
Although the world was in slow motion, Geralt found he could still move normally and with a quick glance at the flash of white beside him he discovered that so could Yen.

  
_This dog isn’t normal either. What has happened to us?_

  
Shrugging his shoulders, he turned back to the Infected, jumping as he remembered that although they were slow they were still moving, now over the gate and closer to the horse frantically pulling and pawing at the wire she was attached to in an attempt to save herself. Geralt let the adrenaline in his body pull him towards the infected, clearing the fence with a effortless leap as he brandished his sword, vaguely recollecting the fact that to kill them he must in effect decapitate the beings, before he swung the weapon with deadly accuracy, slicing clean through the neck of one. Its body fell to the floor, the blood from the impact splashing across his front. Wiping at his face, he felt a sudden rush of more adrenaline, the second creature moving even slower as he swung his sword again, a sickening crunch echoing around the silent streets as again this one fell to the floor, its head spinning and landing a few metres away, rolling until its dead eyes stared into Geralts own, almost thanking him for giving it a just end. 

  
Turning around, Geralt noticed the horse was staring at him with wide eyes, the whites showing clear around the outside signalling its fear. Geralt walked slowly towards the terrified creature, his movements purposeful, but he stopped in his tracks as the world around him continued to spin in slow motion, causing him to stumble slightly. He felt Yen paw at his leg, and he jumped to the side, stumbling again. The dog looked at him, ensuring she had his attention before very pointedly lying down, almost motioning at Geralt to do the same. 

  
_What is happening with my life?_ Geralt found himself thinking as he knelt on the floor where he previously stood, giving the dog a look as if to say, ‘what now?’ _I’m sat on the floor, in a field, because a weirdly smart dog I adopted yesterday what, told me to? And there are dead people that I decapitated lying over there._ Deciding that thinking on it for too long would only prove painful, Geralt leaned back onto his heels, assuming a comfortable meditative pose as he tried to calm his beating heart.

  
After what must have been 20 minutes of sitting, Geralt felt a nudge at his side from Yen, and upon opening his eyes he was pleased to note that the haze had gone from his vision, and the world seemed back to normal, or, well, as normal as it could be considering.   
Slowly regaining his footing, Geralt discovered that despite his previous running, his fighting, his body still felt fresh and ready for more. A small smirk made its way to his rubbery face, though the effort was almost enough to make him consider never showing any emotion again. He looked over to the mare, she was peacefully grazing at the small amount of grass left within her reach, seeming content to allow Geralt to care for her. The decision was made then to care for her, he moved towards her, this time much slower, pleased to see that she no longer panicked and tried to get away from him, instead when he reached and untied the lead rope from her headcollar she whickered softly, nudging his chest. He patted her head, before gently leading her towards the building on the other side of the field where her stable would be.

  
Upon entering the large barn like structure, Geralt found it clean and tidy, the horses tack and equipment was hung on one end, and the rider’s clothes on the other. It looked as though a child had previously owned her, the clothes were tiny. Above her stable, Geralt found her name, obviously a competition name “Encroach”. He let out a scoff at the luxury life the mare had led, before gently leading her into her stall. The barn seemed secure, the large doors shut tightly and barricaded well, so Geralt allowed himself to relax for now, laying down on the rug covering a haybale.

  
“So, Yen, looks like we have another companion. No way I’m leaving your name that, how about Roach? Will that do girl?” At the horses unimpressed huff, Geralt laughed softly. “Well it’ll have to, it us against the world now. We’ll be fine” He said more to himself, eyes looking up to the high ceiling above him, admiring the way the rain had begun to fall upon the dirty translucent plastic which covered it. Letting out a long sigh, Geralt resigned himself to the truth, he couldn’t stay in this place. 

  
His house was falling apart, his food had all gone off and no doubt had all his neighbours. There was no sign of life that his hypersensitive ears could pick up, apart from a few newly feral dogs feasting on the dead. He had two new companions, he looked to the side to see Yen settling calmly into the hay beside Roaches stall. He knew already he’d protect them to the ends of his life. And he had these new abilities, which seemed to come from his infection, which led him to believe that his body had simply reacted well to the bacteria and used them to his advantage. Wiping at his mouth in the memory of the adrenaline rush during his fight, he was disgusted to find it covered in the drying blood of the Infected. _So, their blood…enhances my abilities? Maybe…_

  
His mind raced with possibilities, eventually coming to the realisation that it must be the bacteria in their blood adding to his bodies bacteria population which somehow gave him more power and helped him to survive. For the next few hours, Geralts mind played with all possibilities of what to do next, all of them having one thing in common.

  
He had to get out of this town. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for the views so far! Please leave me a comment to let me know you like or what I could do differently, it makes a huuuuge difference to my motivation to carry on with stories!


	3. A sexy murderer enters the chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here come dat boi

Though the streets were usually silent in this small town, its tiny cottages and small local commodities usually filled with the elderly or infirm, like something from a fairy-tale, now, much like all other places Jaskier had visited on his journey to find company, it looked like a horror scene. He brushed his fingers along the daintily painted picket fences, almost admiring the way nature had overtaken the place in the absence of humans. Ivy climbed high over the houses, keeping the horrors trapped within the colourful doors which lined the entrance to each cottage. 

Whistling some unknown tune, Jaskier continued his way down the street, keeping to the pavement because ‘it might be a zombie apocalypse, Mouse, but that doesn’t mean we break the rules of the people!’. He smiled fondly before the wave of sadness washed over him again, the sounds and feelings of terror returning full force alongside vivid visuals of that night.

_“Hey Jask, I bet you couldn’t catch me round here!” The young girl shrilled, oblivious to the fact that the world was ending, and they were clearly in the thick of it, being in the largest city for miles. A quick look at his elder sat beside him, Janet, confirmed that he had no choice but to rise to the girls’ challenge or else risk upsetting her. Plastering his best fake smile on, he stood up, to which she squealed and ran to the other side of the hall, around the makeshift beds which held more children, playing dulled down versions of childhood games or simply sitting in silence, all wondering why their parents hadn’t come to pick them up yet, the older ones realising that in fact, their parents would never return._

_Breaking out into a soft jog, Jaskier woke up his inner child and allowed himself to enjoy the moment, and as a few more children joined in with their little game of ‘escape the dragons cave’, Jaskier found himself forgetting about the situation at hand and just having fun. That was, until he returned to his place for a breather only to find Janet suspiciously missing. Being the oldest in their theatre group, when the outbreak came to rear its ugly head in the form of parents coming to ‘pick up their kids’, only for an Infected to crawl in shouting the name of one of the younger girls, Janet made the quick decision to close the doors and keep the children safe. Even if it came at the cost of their freedom._   
  
_The kids weren’t exactly easy to console either when their beloved drama teacher beheaded poor little Alicia’s mother in front of them. With one of their ‘prop swords’. Jaskier had never felt such fear and awe for a woman until that moment._

_But the Infected knew they were there, which is why every so often one of the older volunteers were sent out to draw them away, distract them, but to also allow some more to escape and gather supplies. Because keeping 25 children fed and entertained in a small theatre room was a mammoth task, especially when some of them would scream and cry for their parents at all hours. You try keeping a screaming 10-year-old girl inside when a step outdoors would leave her to the unruly grasps of infection. Impossible._

_Jaskier looked back to the room of children behind him, eyes scanning for a sign of Janet but not catching a glimpse of her fiery red hair anywhere. Strange. Calling for a time out and motioning for one of the older boys to keep an eye out for squabbles or any trouble, he set off towards the back door, down the corridor, where the two older members, Charleigh and Erthan, should be returning through soon. Rounding the corner with a cautious pace, Jaskier instantly recognised Janet’s face of worry. She was stood by the doors of the reinforced fire door, the window which normally showed a clear road to the back of the building painted a scary picture._

_“They’ve found the door, Jask. Come see how.” Janet whispered, a degree of sadness within her voice. As Jaskier neared, he could hear a familiar sound, the whistle from the scouts signing their arrival back with supplies. At his panicked look, Janet placed a gentle hand on his shoulder._

_“Brace yourself, boy. Its not good.” And one glance out the window confirmed that. He stumbled back, eyes watering and chest tightening in fear._

_Its-_

_No, it can’t-_

_They couldn’t-_

_They are._

_Outside the window, a second glance confirmed, within the hoard of infected all still shouting their hosts children’s name, stood two familiar faces. Charlie and Erthan, their eyes clouded over and limbs hanging oddly by their sides, whistling the tune. A few around them had picked it up and were now copying too._

_“Guess we aren’t getting our supplies, huh.” Janet sighed, the sadness now clear as she looked out at her former students, now within the hoard of death gathering outside. Jaskier moved to her side to comfort her, before a loud albeit concerned yell made both of their heads snap to the side._

_“Janet?? The guys are back, but it sounds like they’re at the side door this time.”_

_Jaskier and Janet looked at each other in terror._

_“LACHLAN, NO! DON’T OPEN THAT DOOR!” They screamed in tandem, leaping up and stumbling down the corridor together._

_“What?! I can’t hear you, I’ll just-“ the scream which followed, along with the crash of the door shook the building, and to this day still chilled Jaskier to the core. The fear was real in that moment, Jaskier stumbled slightly as he turned the corner, leaving him second to the woman who was sprinting for her life. As the two stumbled into the main theatre, they were met with screams. The infected walked towards children, they were walking towards their own children- no, not the time for random facts on the Infected Jask, and to Jaskiers horror he realised some of the children were actually running back towards their parents, to be met with a gruesome demise in the form of limbs being ripped clean off, necks being bitten into, a tight embrace morphed into a kiss of death for each and every child who put their hearts before their heads. Jaskiers focus was ripped away from the display in front of him by the piercing scream that came from Janet beside him as he realise that they had entered through the back too, and one of them had grasped Janet tightly by the shoulders and was pulling her back, hands clawing and teeth chattering in some unknown speech to each other._

_Jaskiers heart was racing, torn between saving his teacher or saving the children, but his mind was made for him at her next screech, “The children! Save the- Save- “she was swallowed into the hoard who turned their empty eyes to him._

_“Oh shit” He squeaked, never being one for fighting, Jaskier jumped down the staircase, again stumbling as he scrambled for his footing, now on foot level with the devastation it seemed much more real, and much more gruesome. Children lay in some way dismembered or maimed, some had already begun to wake up, which Jaskier again noted down in his mental inventory, ‘they are getting quicker at infecting’. Frantically searching for any sign of life, Jaskier spotted a couple of children, a roughly 13-year-old boy named Mouse and a girl he couldn’t quite put a name on, cowering behind one of the beds. Though they were surrounded and Jaskier was clearly outnumbered, he felt a sudden parental responsibility to these children. His fingers brushed against the small dagger strapped to his thigh in the form of a ‘gay’ holster, and he steeled his nerve before drawing it from where it had rested since he found it in a shop on his stock run. Though he had never fought a single fight, Jaskier did have training in sword fighting as part of his in-progress drama degree, and he gathered using a dagger wouldn’t be too different. Breathing deeply, Jaskier scrambled through the legs of the infected towards them, hoping and praying to the gods above to not get touched. Don’t get touched. Don’t get touched. Don’t get-_

_“Jaskier!” Mouse exclaimed as he reached their hiding place, quickly ducking their heads further down behind the bed. The sounds of disdain around him quieted for a second, and Jaskier thought they were done for. He prepared himself to fight for his life before the swarm overran him, but for all his worrying, they never came. The noise returned to usual pretty soon, and Jaskier allowed himself to breathe. He looked under his arms at the two children, and Mouse looked up at him with terrified eyes, tears threatening to spill over. “Jask, what are we going to do?” he whispered, the fear evident in his voice._   
  
_Realising that he was there to comfort the kids, Jaskier decided to lie._

_“Don’t worry you guys, we’ll be fine. We’ll survive. You just have to listen to me and wait.” And so, they waited. And waited. Every time an Infected neared their bed, Jaskier thought it was the end. But every time, they turned the other way, ignoring the terrified trio. Eventually, Mouse closed his eyes, falling into a light sleep while tucked into Jaskiers side, disturbed with every small noise or change in Jaskiers position. The girl, however, seemed unyielding to Jaskiers light touch on her hair, simply staring straight ahead with an unreadable expression on her face. Jaskier didn’t want to admit it but she scared him. Her clothes were ripped in a way which signalled shed escaped a close call with an Infected, and Jaskier couldn’t help but wonder just how close._

_Eventually the room quietened, and Jaskier made the decision. He briefed the children on their plan, asking how good they were with running. At their determined looks, he poked his head over the bed._

_“Ready? He whispered, and Mouse gulped. The girl simply nodded, her silver blonde hair bouncing over her tiny shoulders. The nearest infected was at least 10m away at that point, and so the spoken “Go” was uttered to the children. Firstly, they attempted to sneak out past the lingering infected, but when one of them turned its head and let out a guttural groan at the sight of them, creating a domino effect around the room, they decided it was time, and keeping close beside the two children, the small group broke out into a run, and then a sprint as the infected began to draw close. With the door in sight, Jaskier saw but one problem. The (Man? Thing?) stood dumbly trying to leave the building but just bouncing off the wall._

_He knew he was the only one who could help the children, and so in the most selfless moment in his life so far Jaskier ran ahead of the children, straight towards the thing by the door. At his footsteps approaching, the creature turned, a dumbfounded look on its face, and Jaskiers footsteps faltered as he recognised the distorted face. Erthan. He could have sworn a glimmer of recognition crossed its face before it let out a noise and started towards Jaskier at a pace he hadn’t seen before in the creatures. Noted. The new ones are quicker. Overcoming his trepidation, Jaskier lifted his dagger, in one quick movement he slipped beneath the beings arm and stabbed it in the back of the neck, a crunch as his dagger passed through its spine, leaving it paralysed in a lump on the floor._

_“GO! QUICK!” he shouted to the children, Mouse also hesitating as he recognised his former group leader. The girl carried on running, determined and cold to the horrors surrounding her, and Mouse soon followed, the screams from the Infected causing heads to turn all around. As they sprinted down the street, Jaskier took one last look at the place he had grew up, when he was in trouble with school he would come here to practice, when his parents had told him to leave because of his newfound interests in the stronger sex he came and slept in the office for a few days. It had been his safety net for as long as he could remember, but it was gone now. And so, he turned and easily caught up with the two children, avoiding infected until their occurrences were few and far between, and they couldn’t run any longer. His legs ached and his chest burned as they turned into the driveway of a quiet, undisturbed house on the road they had been following for miles, the house in which they decided to take up residence. As they settled into the living room for the night, using the old coats and furs around the house as makeshift beds and duvets, Jaskier found himself looking at the younger girl. Where he and Mouse were decisively exhausted, collapsing onto the beds at the first chance they got, she stood unphazed and fresh, not even tired._

_“Hey, I’m Jaskier,” He spoke softly, his voice high pitched like speaking to a spooked dog, “What’s your name?” She turned, giving him another indescribable look, before obviously deciding to trust him._

_“I’m Ciri. And I know who you are.” She stated, before turning and staring into the simmering fire they had started up. Raising his eyebrows at the tone of her voice before smiling at the way he sounded just like his father, he turned over on his felts. He fell into a restless sleep, realising that it might be the last he had for a long time did nothing to soothe his racing mind._

Jaskier gasped and gulped for air as he leant on the car, bright purple jacket suddenly too tight on his wheezing chest. Once the sights and sounds of the children fled from his mind, he began to regain control of his breathing, forcing his clenched fists open and his muscles to loosen again as he slowly opened his eyes. 

“I can see cars. I can see trees, houses, roses. I can hear- Nothing. Its quiet, as usual. I can smell… The… trees?” He laughed to himself, he was never good at these things, but they always served to distract his mind from the thoughts boxed within his head. Thoughts which he yet again tied up in their box, sealed with a bow and a fuck ton of cable ties. No more today, thank you.

Jaskiers stomach growled, he patted it absentmindedly as he restarted his walk down the road. Food, now, that’s a thought. His small bag of supplies since his last sighting of a supermarket had ran out a couple of days ago and by now, well, he was in pain. He refused to steal from a house, though people had told him its really not stealing since the people who lived there had long since left, ‘Not by choice though!’. Jaskier was a man of honour. If he wanted to eat, he’d find it himself. Or… find a supermarket to thrift through. He shuddered at the thought of having to kill some poor defenceless animal to eat, honestly, he would rather starve. 

Jaskier grinned as he reached the end of the road, a tiny corner shop within a few meters from where he stood. Out of habit, he checked left, then right, for cars which would certainly not be there before crossing the road, a skip in his already dainty step. 

“Heyy darling,” A southern drawl sounded from behind him as he neared the shop, causing a natural panic to set in. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here, in this dangerous world, all alone without a man to protect you?” came another voice, before the two creeps began laughing loudly to each other. Jaskier was used to this, even before the apocalypse his bright clothing and spritely walk caused many a man to mistake him for a woman, and he would usually ignore the harmless catcalls. 

This felt different.

There was an air of malice in the voices, which had his blood running cold as he decided to forsake the shop for his own safety, much to the protests of his stomach.

“Hey gorgeous, where are you going? We could take care of you reaaaal good.” The men all but growled, to his growing panic he realised they were drawing closer. Drawing from experience, Jaskier forced his voice to grow as low as it could, before speaking.

“I can take care of myself. Thanks for the offer.” Usually, men would utter their hurried apologies at this, worried that their catcalling was now seen as being gay, oh the horror! Not these men.

It seemed the apocalypse really brought out the best in people, as they choked on their next words in disgust.

“What! How fucking dare, you!” One of them sputtered, and Jaskier chanced a look over his shoulder at their horrified faces, which, even as he looked turned malicious.

“Look, Ste, the little fag survived. It seems even the Infected cant stand to go near him.” At this, and the heavy approaching footsteps, Jaskier slowed. His fingers found their way to his knife, his blood running cold.

The two laughed, had the nerve to let out a dark chuckle as they neared him. The fact that even through an apocalypse people still had the energy to be homophobic boiled his blood.

“Awh, what’s up little fairy? Big bad wolves scaring you? Imagine being all alone in a time like this.” They growled from behind him, and at this he whipped around, looking at their shocked faces as he twirled his dagger around his dainty fingers. He knew he painted quite a picture, bright purple hoodie covering a lose vest, showing the right amount of chest, darkened eyes and tousled hair, paired with some ‘accidentally’ ripped jeans which allowed a teasing glimpse at his well-muscled legs. 

He looked dangerous.

“Now boys, just because you had a gay moment doesn’t mean you should get yourselves hurt.” He smirked at them as they stopped in their advances, confusion across their face as they looked at each other as if to say, ‘that doesn’t count as gay- does it?’. “Id advise you to clear off before you see just how much this ‘little fairy’ can do to you big wolves.” He gave them a puppy dog face, all the while sizing them up, taking count of their supplies and significant lack of weaponry.

He could take them, if he needed to.

“Now what on earth could one little gay boy do to us, eh? I doubt you could even stop a fly in its tracks.” The larger one chortled at his friend, who seemed to regain his confidence from that joke, and the both of them continued their advances towards Jaskier. He smirked.

Though he wasn’t a fighter, he had learnt a whole lot on his travels thus far, fighting for survival did that to a guy. And so when one guy grabbed a hold of his sleeve in an attempt to pull him into a headlock, Jaskier spun around in a movement that was almost impossible, an advantage he found came from his dancing abilities was that he was incredibly quick on his feet. Suddenly, the smaller guy found himself wrapped in a headlock, dagger pressed against his neck, breathing way too heavily for the lack of movement he had made. 

“What do you say, love?” Jaskier whispered into the man’s ear, still willing to show some mercy.

“Get your filthy hands off me you fucking- “ Jaskier let out a fake sigh.

“Such potential too.” 

His knife sliced, and the blood poured. He released the man in front of him, and he fell to the floor, face first, clutching and gasping at his neck. All the horrors he had seen in his short life, there was still nothing that disgusted him more than the men in front of him, so hellbent on their flawed beliefs that they would harm another person for just existing. He looked down into the hate filled eyes of the man below him as he rolled over, movements stilling as the blood poured from his wound. Disgusting. He wiped his knife on his jacket, scowling at the new stain.

“Look what you did to my jacket. This was my favourite.” He winked at the larger man, staring in shock at his companion’s body convulsing on the floor beneath Jaskier, who simply stepped over it and advanced towards him.

“You k- you killed him!” He shouted, before lunging towards Jaskiers tall form, hands reaching for his neck. Jaskier stepped out of the way, and the man fell to the ground, cursing all sorts of words Jaskier had never heard before. The younger man took his chance, dropping onto the mans winded form, he straddled his hips. 

“Now who’s the fag, hey?” He growled as he placed his dagger to the man’s neck, who lay gasping and squirming beneath him. Jaskier smirked, face drawing closer to the mans, whose eyes opened wide with fear. In his movements, Jaskiers eyes looked up to spot a means of an even fairer demise for this creature beneath him. 

“At least now you will have a reason to be a bastard” He whispered in the mans ear, before gently removing his knife from the neck of the beast, ensuring he pressed hard enough to allow a bead of blood to fall from the scratch left behind. He jumped up quickly.

“Bye bye love, enjoy your new life.”

Jaskier hurried to grab the two bags left behind, backing away to watch the scene unfold behind him. As the man on the floor whined at the scratch on his neck, a few very eager Infected approached him from the other end of the road. Knowing the size of the man, there was no way he would escape before they reached him. 

Good.

The screams should have rattled him as their eager claws ripped apart his body, the sounds of the low groaning of the creatures should have scared him, but they didn’t. All he could think about was how he would find a jacket as great as his current one in an old town like this.

And the fact he had to run to safety now, as the groans of the Infected turned towards him. He glanced down to one of the bags he had taken, grinning as he saw it full of food.

What a perfect day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the views! Don't worry, they meet in the next chapter, I told you it would be long!
> 
> Pls leave me some comments :D

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, of course I had to include Yen, even if she is a dog (or hey, a white wolf ;))This is my first fanfiction for the witcher, so bear with me if my writing of characters is off, it'll get better eventually.  
> Please, leave me some prompts and follow my tumblr Angryhatefullcoffee-man xoxoxoxo


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